


College Professors Need to Keep Their Mouths Shut

by ThirteenRedVampireBites



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Bobby is Buck's Dad, College Student May Grant, Frank Talk of Trauma, Graphic Description, M/M, News Media, Post-Bombing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Tsunami (9-1-1), Post-lawsuit, Reveal All, Service Dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23831173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirteenRedVampireBites/pseuds/ThirteenRedVampireBites
Summary: May's Media course Professor brings up two extremely hard moments in her life. One stupid comment later... May makes a call.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Bobby Nash, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley & May Grant (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 495





	College Professors Need to Keep Their Mouths Shut

**Author's Note:**

> First, I'd like to say a big thank you to my fabulous new friends in the I'm Your Buddie Discord. Without all of you, this wouldn't exist! Starting with the initial prompt by [Kate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitlia777/pseuds/kaitlia777) then expanding from there. 
> 
> Second, this has a lot of my feelings about how trauma is handled in TV shows/movies, so I apologize ahead of time if that's going to be an issue, but... It does have validation. 
> 
> **Quick Warning**  
>  There is some sort of graphic mention of death, blood, injury, and poor mental health. If that's a problem, please don't read this. 
> 
> Moving on, I hope y'all are having a good time in quarantine. If you are still working, THANK YOU. Thank you for taking that risk if you're an essential worker, even if it really shouldn't have been asked of you. Thank you, if you're a part of the Health Care system, for making sure that as many families don't lose a member or if they do that, you did the best you could. 
> 
> Enjoy!  
> ~Kate-Lee

May had been dreading this class since the day the syllabus was handed out. She’d enjoyed the rest of the classes, don’t get her wrong, but this one… This one may break her, and she really didn’t want to have to tell her parents that she’d either gotten into a shouting match with the prof or stormed from the room in tears.

“Come on, May~” her roommate, Danielle, whined as she nearly had to drag May into the theatre the class took place in. “It won’t be that bad, and if you need to leave, just grab me and we’ll go.”

“You’re the best, Dani,” May muttered as they entered the room, sitting at the end of a middle row so they could easily see the screen but still not disturb the class if they needed to leave.

The prof arrived two minutes before the class was scheduled to start, setting up his laptop and connecting it to the projector. May watched all of this with her knee bouncing under her desk and a hand on her phone where it lay face down on the desktop. The prof moved across the stage just as her phone buzzed, and she knew that it would be a message from Buck without even looking at it.

She’d texted her pseudo older brother at lunch, after taking all morning to work up the nerve to ask if he was okay with coming to pick her up if she needed him to. He’d almost immediately responded with not only a bunch of question marks and emojis but also a _yes, just say the word_. He told her to call him when she got the chance since it was a slow day for calls at the firehouse. She’d called him and had a long conversation with the whole firefam after he put the call on speaker about why she might need Buck to come and get her from campus for the night.

She took a deep breath to settle herself as the prof opened his mouth and began the class.

“Good evening class. Welcome to our second final class of the semester. I’m sure you’re all getting excited for the end of the year and summer vacation, but we’ve still got a few weeks. At any rate, we’ve finally reached contemporary media time, so we’ll be looking at media from LA in the past year.” The clicker in his hand made an audible noise as he turned his presentation to the first slide, a warning. “Blanket warning before we begin, some of the scenes depicted in the clips we’ll be looking at are incredibly graphic, so if you need to exit the room or look away, please do so.”

May took another deep breath and Dani wrapped a hand around her arm, squeezing gently. May reached over and took Dani’s hand, squeezing as the prof clicked again and the presentation switched to a news feed of the night of the bombing. May almost wanted to close her eyes, but she knew that just hearing it would be worse.

“First we’re going to watch two of the clips, then we will open the discussion on their quality or value afterwards,” said the prof before he clicked his button again and the news feed started to play.

The newsfeed of the bombing started with the reporter commenting on the active bomb situation happening behind her before she was suddenly cut off as an explosion made the screen shake and the reporter stumble. The camera caught the truck rocking before it fell over, and the shouting that could be heard over the audio stabbed right into May’s heart. She knew how this ended, but still, she was holding her breath as everything played out before her eyes. The time between that explosion and the people rushing over to raise the truck felt like an eternity, and she didn’t fully get her breath back until the ambulance was pulling away from the scene and the clip stopped.

The silence after the noise from the clip almost seemed heavy, and there were many students who were shuffling and making noise as they settled back again. May raised a shaking hand to her face and wiped the few tears from her cheeks with a shaky breath as she slumped in her seat. This was going to be hard.

“This next clip may be the harder of the two for many of you to watch,” the prof warned as he clicked his button. The black screen was now filled with blue, and May knew exactly what he had brought up. The tsunami. The water flooding the city and the mayhem that the day had become. Another shaky breath escaped her as he clicked the button and the clip started to play.

The news crew had obviously been in the air for something else before they noticed the water because the first image was actually the water rapidly receding and the news anchors back in the studio just going silent except for their gasps of horror. May could only watch as the camera panned towards the Santa Monica Pier, knowing that at that very moment, Chris was standing on a bench at the end near the water with Buck holding the bottom of his shirt as they roundabout discussed the fact that Buck may never go back to work. She didn’t even realize that she’d stopped breathing until Danielle is tapping over her sternum with her fingers in a pattern that May recognized from when she used to have panic attacks almost constantly. Immediately she took a deep breath, and then again when the tapping continued.

The wave rushed in and May slammed her eyes shut, covering her face with her hands. She couldn’t watch. She knew what happened, from piecing together the bits that Buck and Chris had mentioned over the months since then. She also knew what was happening with her and her Mom across town at the same time. And she could feel the stickiness. The heat. The flowing blood over her hands and through her fingers and she’s almost afraid to look at them because what if they were red?

Hands wrapped around hers and pulled them from her face. She opened her eyes to find Danielle leaning over in front of her. Another tap against her sternum had her eyes drifting over to find that another of their friends had joined them and was sitting to her right, Horizon watching her worriedly. She weakly smiled at their worry, taking one of each of their hands and squeezing gently. She barely noticed as the video continued, the water barreling through and destroying _everything_ in its path.

When the video finished, a good portion of the room looked to be seconds away from full-blown panic attacks, so the prof clicked off the videos and stepped back. “I’ll give you all five minutes,” he told the class. “Do whatever you need.”

May took a deep breath, picking up her phone from the desktop and turning on the screen. There waiting for her, with a timestamp of the beginning of class, was a message from Buck with an image attachment.

_Buck [19:00]: We’re waiting when you need us._

The image below the message was so Buck. He had Christopher in his arms, the boy with his head thrown back as he laughed at something. Eddie was standing next to them with the leash to Kore’s harness in his hand, the Great Dane with her tongue lolling out as she leaned against Eddie’s side. May still couldn’t believe that Kore was a puppy, she was huge already. The background of the photo was of the park across from campus since the building she was currently in could be seen over the top of the trees.

May brushed her sleeve against her face, wiping the tears from her face as she typed out a quick reply.

_May [19:56]: Thanks, Buck._

_Buck [19:57]: You’re welcome, lil sis._

The prof cleared his throat, gathering their attention back to him. When most of the class had calmed again, he spoke, “Is everyone ready to get back to work? Or should we have another five minutes?” When no one protested, he nodded and moved back to the front of the stage. Clicking his button, he brought up two simple and vague descriptions of the videos. “Can anyone tell me a reason why I may have chosen these two videos out of the many things that have happened this year?”

A hand went up at the front of the room, and the prof called on the student. “Is it because they’re two of the biggest events LA has seen this year?” the student asked, sitting up in his seat.

“That’s one reason,” the prof agreed. “Anyone else have any other reasons?”

Another student raised her hand, and answered when prompted, “Is it because they’re a dichotomy? One single event and another event that spawned a multitude of little events?”

“That is part of it,” the prof agreed and looked out into the students to see if anyone else had other suggestions. He quickly called on another student who’d hesitantly put their hand up.

“Is… Is it also because of the amount of news coverage they each received?” the question was also hesitant.

The prof lit up, and pointed at the student with the clicker hand, “That is an excellent reason and the primary one for my showing these clips. Can anyone tell me how much news coverage each of these clips saw?”

Almost a dozen hands went up, May abstained from answering since she’d followed both near to the minute. The prof pointed at a random person in the back of the room.

“There were two pieces about the bombing,” the student answered. “That one and a short mention a couple days later that the trapped firefighter had lived.”

“Correct,” the prof agreed before pointing to a student at the front of the room.

“The tsunami was constantly on the news for weeks afterward. Almost every night had something to report about what clean up was being done,” the student went quiet for a moment before continuing, “Or who had died or was still missing.”

“That’s right,” the prof was quieter, nodding his head and folding his hands together in front of him. “So, what’s the main difference between these two events?”

A voice called out from the front without being prompted, “The amount of trauma and the scale.”

May couldn’t believe it. And she definitely couldn’t believe when the prof added to the statement, “That’s right. The tsunami affected the whole city. The bombing affected one small set of people.”

The words burst from her mouth before she even realised it. “Excuse you!” May snapped as she stood up, her pen clattering to the desk loudly as everyone’s attention turned to her.

“Pardon, Miss…?”

“May Grant,” May retorted sharply as she picked up her phone. “ _Both_ of those events affected this city as a whole. My brother was the firefighter trapped under that truck, so don’t you dare tell me that the bombing only affected a small pool of people.” She’d been angrily tapping out a message to see if Buck would be willing to come in. “Not only did it affect my family, but it affected _every_ first responder in the city.

“For weeks, bombs were found in this city, sent through the mail to every precinct, firehouse, and ambulance station. At any moment, dozens of people could have died. And for months afterwards, even though Freddie was stopped, they were constantly checking every package and letter sent to the buildings just in case one had been missed or someone else had taken the initiative to pick up where he’d left off. Policies were changed, security was tightened, therapists on masse were hired and evaluations shoved through every nose and mouth of anyone willing to sit still long enough for it to stick.”

She leaned back against her desk, folding her arms over her chest, and anyone who knew them both and saw her at that moment would have only said that she looked exactly like her mother.

“The _only_ reason there were only two pieces on what he went through is because the reporters were threatened with a lawsuit for camping outside his hospital room and disrupting the ICU activity. They were like sharks after blood, and it nearly came to blows between my stepdad and one of the reporters who tried sneaking into Buck’s room while he was still out to take pictures.”

The rear doors of the theatre opened, and May twisted to find Buck and Kore standing in the doorway. She waved at Christopher as the boy peeked in around Kore’s back, getting a wave in return.

“Buck,” May greeted, straightening again. “You good to share?”

Buck shrugged, stepping into the room. Kore followed at his side seriously, her uniform on, the white letters on the black vest blatantly screaming, **Service Animal: DO NOT TOUCH**. Buck appeared to keep her to his side with the longer handle of her harness but May knew that she really didn’t need it as well trained as she was.

“You called, I came,” Buck replied, stepping down the stairs to her side. His face was as close to emotionless as Buck ever allowed himself, and he was holding himself rigid in the way she’d only seen once and only in film, at his Acceptance Ceremony for his full badge.

Eddie brought Chris in just behind Buck. Chris was careful in keeping his crutches out of Eddie’s way, while also having his arms around his father’s neck. Chris was quiet and looked sort of sad, and May winced, knowing she was partially at fault for that and that she’d have to make it up to him at some point.

“Professor Clairemore,” Buck greeted coolly. “I’m not sure you know who I am. Evan Buckley, the trapped firefighter from the bombing video.”

“Nice to meet you,” Professor Clairemore greeted quietly.

“Since it seems a few of you have a skewed view of how trauma works, let me spell it out for you,” Buck commented as he made his way to the front of the room. He walked up to the edge of the stage, turning his back to it and quietly ordering Kore to sit in Spanish before he jumped up to sit on the edge of it. “To be honest, I don’t remember a lot about that night. It’s all a haze of pain and a blur of fire and smoke. There’s a lot they don’t tell you about major trauma in school and a lot that doesn’t make it into Hollywood at the same time.”

Buck ran a hand through his hair before dropping his elbows to his knees. “The first thing that they don’t tell you: when the pain is beyond bad, you cease to feel it at all as your primitive mind takes over in an effort to keep you alive and moving. There was the immediate pain, the snap and crackle of my bones basically pulverising, but eventually, I just went numb, otherwise, I would have blacked out from the pain. Laying there, I couldn’t focus on _anything_ , my mind was pretty much empty, the only thoughts were wondering if my leg was even still attached or if that was how I was going to go, bleeding or burning since the video clearly shows how close the fire was.”

Hard blue eyes raised to look at the students in front of him instead of the ground below him. “It wasn’t until the threat was gone and I had the touch of another human being that I even noticed the lack of pain.” He cut his eyes away to Eddie, looking at the older man as he stood with Chris and May. “Eddie’s hands on my face as he tried to get me to look at him felt like knives, but even that didn’t compare to the sheer _agony_ of having the truck lifted off of me and my battered body pulled out from beneath it. I’m fairly sure I blacked out that time because I remember even less after the shift. Some snippets of voices, some changes in light, more pain as I was moved, and that’s it. I wouldn’t even be able to tell you when we got to the hospital.” He shook his head.

Reaching down he began untying his left boot, speaking some more. “I was in a coma for almost a week. That schtick about hearing what’s going on? It doesn’t happen when that coma is medicated. I remember nothing until waking up in that hospital bed with my sister sitting next to me. I don’t remember being in the ICU. I don’t remember being moved for surgery or the several times I had my wounds debrided or the three times I fucking _died_ before they brought me back.” He rolled up his pant leg revealing all the still-red scars that ran down the length of his calf. “A titanium rod and four cobalt screws. That was all they needed to put my leg back together.”

He ran a finger down the longest one that stretched from his knee to the edge of his black sock. “One of the lights on the ladder truck shattered, and when it fell on me, it slashed me right to the bone. They were picking out pieces of glass and gravel from the wound for four days after I arrived at the hospital.” He allowed his pant leg to drop again, smoothing it into place before putting his boot back on, lacing it tight again.

He put his hands back behind him, leaning on them as he stared blankly at the front rows. “The news was immediate after I woke up and had been checked over by the doctors. I was _lucky_ to even have my leg. I would be a _miracle_ if I went back to the job I love. For four months I had those words in my head, just circling. My family was being torn from me because if I wasn’t with them, I’d almost never get to see them because of the crazy hours. So, I overworked myself trying to get back to them.” He blinked and turned his attention back to Eddie for a minute. “I pushed too hard and did a lot of dumb shit. Like doing the full physical tests at the breaking of my limits.” He smiled sardonically, “Broke the record for fastest completion, but that didn’t mean shit when a week later I collapsed at my Welcome Back party. The screws had caused clots in my leg, and when I pushed myself in my tests they broke off.”

He winced at the secondary agony on Eddie’s face as they both remembered the night of the party. “One minute I’m standing up and talking to everyone who comes up to me for congratulations. Next minute I have a tickle in my throat, and I need to cough. But what comes out isn’t mucus or even just a hair, it’s blood. And the blood that comes is dark and heavy. It’s like choking on oil. And you don’t even realize it’s there until it’s spilling down your chin and coating your tongue in _iron_ , and then you can only stare at your friends and family as they stare at you in horror before you can’t breathe and you fall to your knees.

“I woke up in another hospital bed. Imagine, a first responder who has to call nine-one-one.” He pressed his foot against Kore’s shoulder when the Great Dane came over and sat at his feet from where he’d had her before. “The doctors explained that I’d suffered a pulmonary embolism, and I was lucky that my brothers and sisters were medical professionals, otherwise I would have died. Recommended treatment: blood thinners for several months. And I was right back to square one.

“Even on blood thinners I could have gone back to work,” Buck admitted, with a shrug. “I would have had to be careful, a hardship if you know me, but I could have done it. However, _Dad_ ,” he smiled slightly at the big grin on May’s face at the word, “Dad was afraid of me getting hurt again. He’d already seen his past come back to bite him when Freddie came after him, and he couldn’t stand to see it again. So, he rejected my reapplication for full duty. I was stuck on light duty, which sucks by the way. Would not recommend. Zero of ten.”

Christopher giggled, and Buck couldn’t help but smile for a moment before it dropped from his face. “I wasn’t doing great with the not working thing. Eddie realized right away and started dropping Chris off with me, forcing me to get out of bed to take care of him. It was exactly what I needed.” Buck’s hands curled into fists on the stage floor. “The day of the tsunami, Chris and I were supposed to be going to a movie on the other side of town. But it was such a nice day outside, and I’d been holed up in my apartment for days at that point, so I suggested the pier instead. It was great, for the first part of the day, we played games, got high on sugar, took a million photos. After lunch, we needed a break though, so we went to the waterfront and sat down on a bench.

“Chris had been fascinated with the water. He was on a marine life kick, and I’d made plans for the aquarium the next week. I had my back to the ocean as it receded, and it wasn’t until people started flocking to the railing that I turned to find out what was going on. I’ll admit, I froze for a second. I was just in such disbelief that it was happening. Then I got my shit together and grabbed Chris. I started yelling for people to run and get off the pier, but we were too slow, or the water was too fast, and by the time the warning sirens started going off, it was too late. The water was already coming back at us.

“Another thing that Hollywood would have you believe that isn’t true; someone cannot outrun a natural disaster bearing down on them. No matter how much you might wish it were so, there’s no way in hell anyone would have been able to get off the pier in time. Even if they had, the water still would have caught them before they could have even gotten their cars started.” He brushed a hand down his chest, pressing his fingers hard into his sternum. “I want you all to imagine a brick wall. Make it tall and strong. Now take a wrecking ball and smash it. That’s what being hit with a wave of water feels like. On top of that, there’s all kinds of debris in the water: things brought up from the ocean floor, pieces of things that were destroyed before the water reached you, other people.” Buck waved a hand for emphasis before settling back, tilting his head up to look at the ceiling. 

Idly, he continued speaking and lowered his head again, “Drowning is the worst way to die. As soon as the water goes over your head, being unable to breathe becomes the alpha fear. There are other fears of course, but drowning… drowning overshadows all of them.”

A student at the front raised her hand and Buck blinked at her before nodding to let her know she could speak, “If… If being unable to breathe is your first fear, what were your other fears?”

Buck sat up and reached down to pet Kore’s ears. He was quiet for a moment as he tried to get his thoughts in order. “After drowning,” Buck started slowly, tugging at an out of place bit of fur. He swallowed harshly and closed his eyes briefly before continuing, “After drowning, my second fear was Christopher. I didn’t care if I lived or died, my entire focus was on making sure that Chris made it out. After all, what would my life matter if I lost the most important thing in my life?”

May wrapped her arms around Eddie and Chris, hugging them tight as Buck continued, breaking their hearts some more. “The funny thing about drowning… Is that you don’t even realize it’s happening. All you know is that you can’t breathe because your chest is heavy, and there’s pressure _everywhere_ , so you don’t even realize. It doesn’t make sense that you can’t breathe, right? There’s all this air around you, so why can’t you breathe?” He left them with that for a moment as he shifted in his place. He folded his hands in his lap. “And that’s on dry land. Now imagine you’re underwater; you don’t know if you’re going up or down, you don’t know what is in the water around you. You can only see a few inches in front of your face, and what you can see is almost so black that you might as well have your eyes closed. Once you’re out of the water and you realize how hard it is to breathe, your only thought is ‘I was finally safe. Why am I dying now?’”

It was silent for only a moment before the clacking of Chris’ crutches drew everyone’s attention as he made his way down to join Buck. Slowly moving, Chris made his way down the stairs. Buck slipped off the stage to wait for him, letting him make his own way. Chris immediately wrapped his arms around Buck’s waist, gently knocking his crutches against the man’s sides.

Crouching down to meet his eyes, Buck brushed a stray curl back from Chris’ face. “We’re alright, _mijo_ ,” he promised, a small hand falling to his face. He plucked the boy off the floor, holding him against his hip before setting him up on the stage. He jumped back up next to Chris, settling in place before tugging him into his lap.

Chris patted at his forearms gently, tapping over his tattoos in a nonsensical pattern. They were both silent for a long time, and it was almost long enough to get the room shuffling, but Chris spoke before that could happen, “Bucky’s my hero.”

A lot of the room had to fight down the impulse to coo at the sight of the two of them and the boy’s words. Buck didn’t say anything, just dropped his chin to the top of the boy’s head and let him say his piece.

“The water was really scary,” Chris started, continuing to pat at Buck’s arms. May watched from next to Eddie, biting her lip as she listened to Chris talk about his side fully for the first time. “And I’m—I’m pretty slow. Buck’s leg was hurt, but he didn’t—didn’t even stop, he just grabbed me and _ran_. He got us into one of the—the booths and told me to close my eyes. It was so loud… And heavy, when—when the water came down.

“We got lost—lost in the water, and I didn’t have Bucky, but I got to a light post. There was water—water everywhere. Then I could hear Buck yelling. He swam really fast, ‘cause—‘cause I was slipping. There was a firetruck from on the pier, and he told me to swim—swim to it. He nearly—nearly got lost again when a bunch of stuff—stuff came, and he had to duck under the water. When the stuff was gone, he climbed—climbed up next to me and it was quiet again.”

Buck ducked his face into Chris’ hair. If there was one thing he regretted most about that day, it was taking his eyes off Chris. Five minutes. He’d looked away for five minutes and then lost Chris for nearly six hours.

“We could hear other—other people yelling for help in the quiet. So, Bucky did what Bucky does best,” Chris patted Buck’s arms soothingly like he knew what the man was thinking. “He went to help. He told—told me to stay where I was sitting then grabbed some of the hoses to use—use as ropes. It was really scary to watch him get back—back in the water to make a hold for other people to get—get onto the truck with us.”

Buck squeezed Chris gently before picking up the story again, “The water was pretty high, twenty–twenty-five feet maybe. There were a bunch of people on top of the truck, so when someone else started yelling, I left Chris with them to go and help. The water started surging back into the ocean though, and the force shifted the truck that was sitting on some other debris, and I’d looked away, and when I looked back, Chris was falling off the top into the water.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, ending up practically whispering as he continued, “I tried. I tried so hard to get to him, but he was gone, and the water was surging, and I went under. I blacked out. When I came to, I was on pavement, and there was only a puddle left behind from where the water had been feet deep before. I was bleeding pretty heavily because of the blood thinners, but I just wrapped a rag around my wrist where most of it was coming from and started looking.”

Buck jolted when a hand landed on his knee and he opened his eyes to find Eddie standing next to them. He leaned into the hand that moved into his hair, closing his eyes again.

“Buck searched for hours,” Eddie explained, his voice both fond and sad. “Hours of walking and screaming that, by the time I found him at the VA hospital, he looked like he was about to drop unconscious if not dead. He was covered in dirt and blood, and he was still damp. There were punctures and scratches and cuts pretty much anywhere there could be. His clothes were beyond ruined. He looked horrible, and it only got worse when I noticed that he was alone.

“I’ll admit,” Eddie sighed deeply, shaking his head at his own idiocy, “that my first reaction was anger because being angry was better than being petrified with fear and guilt. Fear because my son was missing, and Buck looked half dead. Guilt because this could only be my fault. If I hadn’t left Chris with Buck, or told them to get out of the apartment, then none of this would have happened. They would have been safe at home and not in the middle of the worst natural disaster that LA had seen in years.”

Buck pulled one hand out of Chris’ and moved it to curl around Eddie’s arm as the other man leaned against the stage. Tugging gently, he got Eddie to press against him as much as possible, Chris shifting to lean against both of them.

“A van pulled up behind us, and I only noticed her because she was struggling under Chris’ weight, but there was a tiny woman carrying him and obviously searching for someone,” Eddie continued, “I was over there before I even realized my feet were moving. I don’t remember what she said, too focused on my son and then watching as Buck collapsed under the relief. Afterwards was a rush of movement and bodies and I got Christopher checked out before we just went immediately home.”

“My sister came and took me home,” Buck interjected, squeezing Eddie’s arm gently. “I showered and then went to bed.” Watering eyes turned towards Eddie, “I honestly wasn’t expecting to see either of them ever again. I’d _lost_ Christopher, and sure, we got him back, but I still lost him. I didn’t think that Eddie would want me around, so you can imagine my surprise when the next morning, there was a knock at my door.”

“I was called into work,” Eddie shrugged. “It was busy, and I needed someone to look after Chris, and who better than the man who saved his life.” He knocked his head against Buck’s lightly. “Besides Chris needed to see that Buck was alright for himself.”

Buck cleared his throat and took a deep breath, “Another thing that they don’t tell you about trauma: it can manifest in the weirdest ways. Chris was mostly fine afterwards. He had a couple of nightmares and didn’t want anything to do with water for a couple of weeks, but by the time that school had started again, he was mostly back to himself. Me on the other hand…” He brushed a hand through his hair with a sigh. “I was terrified to even leave my apartment. I couldn’t handle water practically at all, so I had a panic attack basically every time I took a shower after that first one where I was too exhausted to even think about the fact that I was stepping into water. I had nightmares and days-long periods where I just wouldn’t sleep. I stopped eating. I started working myself too hard again because I needed sound, sound that I wasn’t getting in my apartment but that I knew I could get at the firehouse.

“And really, the tsunami should have proved that I was capable to work again, but both Dad and the Chief thought I should have some more time off. I couldn’t handle it, so I did something even more stupid,” Buck pressed his forehead briefly into the top of Chris’ head before pulling back and continuing, “I sued the department. No contact allowed, which was a major setback in my recovery because my stupid brain got it into my head that that meant _everyone_ , not just those at the firehouse but everyone even connected to them. So that cut me off from my sister, Christopher, May and her family, everyone.

“I just wanted my job back, so even when I was offered millions of dollars, I didn’t take it,” Buck shrugged. “Everyone was mad when I came back, but I worked hard and eventually things went back to normal.”

“Two months after he got back to work,” Eddie explained, dropping a hand to the top of Kore’s head, “Buck had a panic attack when we did a pool rescue after a little boy fell into the water. Bobby had noticed how much Buck avoided water, so he sent him to therapy. Frank, the house therapist, suggested a service animal, and that’s how we ended up with Kore. Buck spent weeks searching for a good match until he found a trainer who specialized in training Service dogs for working First Responders in Georgia.”

“Usually, Jaime works with Shepherds and Retrievers, but her sister works at a Shelter in Atlanta, and they’d gotten in an extremely pregnant Great Dane. She was not doing good, so Jaime took her in, and as a test, decided to try training the pups,” Buck shrugged, smiling down at Kore as she panted at him, her tongue flopping out. “She’s specially trained to help not only me, but Chris, and the people we help when we go out on calls. She’s part Rescue, part emotional support, part service trained, which works for us because she’s around all the time.”

“The thing you need to remember about trauma,” May concluded from where she was once again leaning against her desk, all her stuff packed into her backpack. “Is that trauma in people doesn’t magically go away like it does with buildings or nature.” She took a deep breath, wringing her hands, “No matter how long it’s been since the event passed, there will always be a scar on your mind. I will never be able to forget the feeling of someone bleeding out under my hands,” gasps sounded around the room, “But with a good support system, I’ll be able to set those memories aside and move forward. Trauma is about having support systems in place and using them properly. Even if it’s just a friend you can sit in silence with for an hour. Or going to a shelter to pet kittens. Or to the hospital to play with new babies. You need support, and you need to use it. You have to let that trauma go; you can’t hold onto it.”

Finished her piece, May picked up her backpack and moved out onto the stairs, waiting for the Buckley-Diaz boys to come meet her. Silently, all five left the room to a slow crescendo of applause that started with Dani and Horizon and spread to the rest of the room.

“Ice cream?” Chris requested as they exited the room and the three adults could only laugh.

“Sure superman,” Buck agreed as he got Kore’s leash reattached to her vest. “We can get ice cream.” He smiled at the boy and promised, “Kore will get a treat of her own, but dogs shouldn’t have human ice cream.”

“I think that new ice cream place by Mom’s has dog-friendly iced treats,” May suggested.

“Excellent idea,” Buck agreed. “You’re in charge of finding out what everyone wants, then we’ll have a night at the Nash-Grant House.”

May grinned and pulled out her phone as they exited the building. This was a much better end than how the night had started. Thankfully, her family would always be there to back her up, just as she would be for them.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  ****  
> [Personal Tumblr](http://thirteenredvampirebites.tumblr.com) / [Writing Tumblr](http://crimsonswolfden.tumblr.com/) / [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Nightworldlove) / [My Writing Blog](https://kate-lee-shadows.blogspot.ca/) / Email: thirteenredangels@hotmail.com  
> ***Tumblr may not work. Just a warning.***  
> 


End file.
